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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970628">home ties</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimesere/pseuds/mimesere'>mimesere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>an unbreakable house [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ed's complicated relationship with his family, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, edtjelvar week 2021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimesere/pseuds/mimesere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As much as he was allowed, Ed made it a rule to not do things he knew he was bad at.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>an unbreakable house [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125800</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>EdTjelvar Week 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>home ties</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Ed Tjelvar week 2021, day 1: Meetings</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The last time Ed had seen the men sitting next to him had been just before he’d been sent to the temple of Apollo. They’d pushed papers at him and his father had told him to sign, so he did, and they’d said it was done and his father had looked at him, really really looked at him and said it was a shame, or maybe that he was ashamed? Ed couldn’t remember exactly, not that it mattered either way, and then his father had left and the men had explained that he was going to the temple and that he wasn’t part of the family anymore. </p><p>The younger one had frowned at him and asked if he understood what it meant to give up his name, so he’d asked if that meant he wasn’t Ed anymore. The men had looked at each other and the younger one, with the same look on his face as all the tutors who hadn’t liked his answers, had said he was still Edward and Ed had said all right then. The older one had smiled at him, one of those smiles that didn’t mean anything, and said that the temple would be his new family. </p><p>Ed hadn’t liked them then and he liked them less now. </p><p>The older one asked, “Do you understand what’s happening, your Grace?” </p><p>Ed shook his head. He wanted to slouch into the chair and think about anything else like he used to but it was hard to slump in a solidly made breastplate and he was a paladin anyway. Paladins were supposed to pay attention and care what people said and he wanted very much for Professor Curie to think he could be trusted to listen and remember what she wanted him to do. She was good about it. She’d tell him what was happening and what needed doing and then let him go and do it. She didn’t even send someone else with him and that was...nice. </p><p>“You are the new Duke of York.” The younger one said it gently, like that made it any better. </p><p>“Nope.” Ed shook his head again. “Can’t be. I signed papers. You were there.” They’d made sure he understood before he walked into the temple. </p><p>The older one sighed like Ed was being difficult. “Your grace--”</p><p>“Stop calling me that,” he said and stood up. “That’s not me.” He hadn’t meant to stand but he’d felt hot and shaky with energy and it had to go somewhere. And now that he was up, he wasn’t sure if he could sit back down without looking like a fool. Professor Curie hadn’t said anything since she’d told him to sit down. He wished she would. </p><p>The older one stood up too and his head maybe came up to Ed’s chin and he poked Ed in the breastplate, right on the engraved sun. Ed had <em>earned</em> that sun. It was his. He didn’t like this man touching it. He didn’t like this man touching him either but people did that all the time and it didn’t tend to matter if Ed liked it or not. “Do you think we’d be here if there were any others?” the older man asked and the younger one covered his eyes with his hand and started to say something everyone ignored. Ed took a step back and the man followed, jabbing him in the chest again with one finger. “You’re the only one left.”</p><p>“My brothers and sisters,” Ed said. He took another step away, edging his way toward the door. The other man followed him. </p><p>“Gone.”</p><p>“Cousins?” He asked but he knew the answer already. </p><p>“They’re all dead, you idiot. Do you even understand what’s been happening--” </p><p>Afterwards, Ed thought that maybe the man was just going to grab him by the arms and shake him until whatever he was saying lodged in Ed’s understanding. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had tried that but he’d been smaller then and had years and years less of patient drills and training until he hurt and definitely weeks less of being hunted through Rome when that had happened. And anyway, what Ed saw was someone trying to grab him and what Ed did was catch the man’s wrists very firmly and stop him. </p><p>“None of that,” he said. He let the man go when he pulled away but watched him carefully, like he’d watch an animal that had just tried to bite him. The man rubbed at his wrists where Ed had grabbed him and Ed thought about maybe offering to heal him but he shouldn’t have tried to grab anyone and maybe that lesson would stick better this way.</p><p>“You’re the last member of your house,” the man said flatly. “Your Grace.”</p><p>The younger one guided the man to sit back down and turned to Ed. “We did try to find the rest of your family but, well.” He motioned with one arm, a broad sweeping movement Ed didn’t really understand. “You are the only one we’ve found alive.”</p><p>Ed frowned at him and pushed away all the family bits to think about later. “I can’t be a duke,” he explained. He didn’t <em>want</em> to be a duke. He never had. “I’m a paladin of Apollo.”</p><p>“Er,” said the younger man. Behind him, the old one smiled. It was a mean smile. “Not anymore?”</p><p>And then they handed him more papers, but these were sealed with the same sun that was engraved on his armor. He sat down.</p><p>Ed read the letter twice. It wasn’t long but the letters swam in his vision and he could feel a headache starting up, but whether that was the reading or the actual words, he didn’t know. It mentioned duty a lot. It told him to trust the men bringing him the letter because they knew what was needed. </p><p>There were other paladins, it said. They could take up his responsibilities in Cairo and free him to do the right thing by his family. Mostly what it said is that he wasn’t a paladin of Apollo anymore.</p><p>Ed smoothed the paper out across his knees. It didn’t change the words. He could see the men looking at him, the older one still smiling. The younger one didn’t look happy about anything. It made Ed like him more.</p><p>Ed looked up at Professor Curie and handed her the letter. While she read it, he closed his eyes and whispered a prayer into the still, quiet space in his mind. </p><p>His first teacher at the temple described Apollo’s power as a glory, blinding and bright and fierce. The sun at its highest point on one of those hard blue summer days. You asked for it, she said, and it filled you up and burned away your doubts and showed you the path forward. She’d made him run and run and run when he said that didn’t sound very nice at all. It had gotten so he could run very far if not fast, but he’d never felt it like that. </p><p>One of the clerics who was teaching them healing said it was a song. And he’d tried that too. Ed had liked the music and was good at the singing, but he never heard it the way they’d said. They liked him anyway because he was good at healing and didn’t fuss much when he couldn’t explain what it felt like when he asked Apollo to heal someone, because it didn’t feel like anything at all. He asked and sometimes they’d knit up again under his hands and sometimes they wouldn’t and sometimes he didn’t even have to be touching them for it to happen. It felt nice, but not special like everyone else said. </p><p>The only one who had ever even come close to explaining it in a way Ed thought might be right was a visiting Artemis paladin and mostly she’d just asked him what it mattered how it felt as long as it worked. He’d liked her tremendously. She was practical and sturdy and she laughed with her whole body and she’d hit him hard enough to knock him down and then grinned when he’d gotten back up and knocked him down again. She said that Artemis was just there when she needed, shoulder to shoulder with her, and it was enough like what Ed felt to make him feel a little less alone.</p><p>So he whispered into that still place where he’d always felt like someone was listening. Nothing felt different at all. He felt the same as he usually did, like he’d done that morning when he’d healed up Professor Curie’s person or when he’d fought that big star thing in the sand. He thought he would know if Apollo didn’t want him anymore. Probably he’d know. </p><p>“I don’t believe that Apollo particularly cares about paperwork,” Professor Curie finally said, setting the letter down in front of her. Ed beamed at her and she didn’t smile back exactly but she tilted her head at him in a tiny nod. </p><p>The older man puffed himself up. “But the Cult of Apollo does. His Grace does not have their approval to go around fighting monsters for a band of anarchists--”</p><p>“Anarchists?” asked Professor Curie sharp-like in a way that made Ed sit up straighter. She leaned back in her chair. “Do go on,” she said. Trap, something whispered in the back of Ed’s head. </p><p>The older man sputtered at the interruption and the younger one put his hand on the older one’s arm. “Madame--”</p><p>“Professor,” Ed said.</p><p>The younger one sighed. “Professor Curie. The Cult of Apollo has agreed with us that Ed will do more good by taking on his title than he would assigned to any of the temples. You must understand that he requires...supervision. And with everything as it is, there simply aren’t the resources to provide it.”</p><p>Ed fought down the conflicting urges to stand up or to slouch further into his chair. “I don’t want it,” he said again, not that anyone was likely to care.</p><p>“What you want is immaterial,” said the older man, proving him right. “You are the duke now.”</p><p>Ed looked down at his hands. He had scars across the back and on the knuckles and the skin of his hands was hard with calluses from morningstar and sword and bow, even though he was awful with bows, just the worst, the kind of just barely passable that made the archery teacher at the temple sigh in resignation and pass him because no one with any sense was going to waste Ed in the back lines when he was irritatingly good at hitting things very hard from up close. That’s what they said, anyway, and it was pretty much true. Anyway, the nicest thing anyone would say about his hands were that they were a soldier’s hands and they were, because he was good at fighting and he was very bad at everything else that a duke might need to do and everyone knew it.</p><p>More importantly, Ed knew it and as much as he was allowed, Ed made it a rule to not do things he knew he was bad at.</p><p>The younger one was still talking to Professor Curie. He’d moved on from how Ed was a waste of Apollo’s clergy’s time and was on to--</p><p>“--and just think of the support he could provide to you as the Duke of York--”</p><p>“And I’m sure that anyone assigned to oversee Mr. Keystone’s stewardship would just approve that help,” Professor Curie said. </p><p>“I’m sure we could come to an arrangement about that,” said the older one and Ed’s heart felt like it was sinking in his chest.</p>
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